


All I've Ever Wanted

by Hotblack



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, But so is Derek, F/M, Gen, Heart Attack, Hints of contemplative suicide, If I'm forgetting any tags let me know, Implied Sexual Content, In which Stiles is a little shit, M/M, Physical Abuse, Pining, They both suck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:43:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotblack/pseuds/Hotblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yeah, we were pretty immature back then... but I've changed. Have you?” In which Stiles and Derek have to learn to grow up before it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I've Ever Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters used in this work, or the franchise itself.

Things were much simpler back then. Everyone was so much younger. Thinking back on it was startling, but Stiles couldn’t stop himself.  
  
He, his mom and his dad had just moved to Beacon Hills, and the Hales, who lived miles away in the forest, had come to greet them. The first person Stiles saw was a teenaged girl with long, dark hair and a lean body. Her name was Laura, and she was startlingly beautiful. She smiled down at Stiles as he grinned up at her.  
  
“Hi!” he said excitedly. “My name is Stiles Stilinski! I’m eight years old and my dad says that I’m the smartest kid in the whooole town!” Puffing out his chest, Stiles stood up straight and tall to try and impress Laura.  
  
“What a cute kid,” an older woman, probably Laura’s mom, said. She patted him on the head and stroked his scruffy hair.  
  
“Thanks,” the sheriff said proudly. “He’s our one and only.” He smiled at his wife, who was grinning dorkily at their adorable son.  
  
“We brought you some sweets,” Laura’s father said, showing a pan full of chocolate chip cookies. Stiles’s face lit up and he went immediately for the cookies, but his father wasn’t having it. He grabbed Stiles by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back.  
  
“No, Stiles. Not until after dinner,” he said as Mrs. Stilinski took the pan.  
  
“Thank you so much!” she replied, “I do a lot of baking myself, so if you ever need some sweets, let me know!” The Hales said their goodbyes and exchanged numbers with the Stilinskis, but it wasn’t until they turned around to walk away that Stiles saw a boy, maybe about thirteen or fourteen, staring at him intently. Stiles was about to say hi when the boy turned tail and ran.  
  
“Daddy, who is that guy?” Stiles asked, tugging on his father’s sleeve and pointing. The sheriff looked up.  
  
“Who is what guy, Stiles?” There was no one there. In the few seconds it had taken Stiles to point out the boy and for the sheriff to look up, the Hales had disappeared.  
  
\--  
  
The Hales had become regular friends of the Stilinskis. They came over for dinner often. Mr. and Mrs. Hale talked about their work at the Animal Reserve with Mr. and Mrs. Stilinski while Stiles tried chatting it up with Laura, who often got bored of him. Stiles learned that the mysterious boy’s name was Derek, and he wasn’t very sociable. In fact, he seemed at his happiest when he was left alone. He smiled every once and awhile and even helped clean the dishes, but he didn’t talk to Stiles at all.  
  
So naturally, one day, little Stiles, with all of the gusto and bravery he could manage, walked up to Derek and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Stiles!” he said loudly with a cheeky grin. Derek looked down at him like he was an alien for a few moments. But then he shook his hand, and Stiles thought that this guy wasn’t so bad.  
  
“Derek,” he said with a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Stiles.”  
  
\--  
  
Stiles built a good, healthy relationship with Derek. They spent a lot of time together over the next few months, playing video games while eating massive amounts of pizza. Derek didn’t find it odd at all that he was hanging out with an eight year (and a half, according to Stiles) year old. And as long as they were happy, their families didn’t have a problem with it, either.  
  
Stiles would tell Derek about how he hankered a crush on the new girl, Lydia Martin, and Derek would listen, fully engaged in the conversation. He nodded along and gave advice where it was needed, and it was all new to him, so he knew what he told Stiles probably wasn’t true, but Stiles took all of his advice to heart, anyway.  
  
Derek didn’t look at Stiles like he was an eight (and a half) year old, anyway. He treated him as if he were the same age as him. As an equal. Neither of them had many friends, and in Derek’s case, none. Stiles had Scott, who came over and hung out with them often, but not often enough. Stiles’s bond with Scott was still as strong as ever, and he would always come first (at least at this stage), but Derek was there for him all the time. Derek studied before he came over to hang out with Stiles, not while he was hanging out with him.  
  
Stiles understood, though. He understood that Scott’s mom was having trouble financially, especially since the divorce, and that Scott had to spend more time with his mom. Stiles understood that Scott had to do his homework at Stles’s house sometimes because he had spent the time he could’ve used doing it comforting his mom instead. He loved Scott.  
  
But he loved Derek, too. He had to make room for both of them, which he knew was hard on Scott, but Scott got along really well with Derek. Well enough, anyway. Scott would never admit that Derek intimidated him. He was older, stronger, and really grumpy. He kicked his ass at video games too, but Stiles often bested them both.  
  
\--  
  
On Stiles’s ninth birthday, Derek bought him a GameCube. Stiles had cried. His mother had hugged Derek until he couldn’t breathe, because the Stilinskis were having a really hard time financially and, damn, Stiles really wanted a GameCube.  
  
After pizza and soda for dinner and a birthday cake for dessert, Stiles, Scott and Derek all raced to Stiles’s room to play Batman Vengeance and Animal Crossing. It was the best birthday Stiles had ever had.  
  
\--  
  
His next birthday was the worst.  
  
His mother was very, very sick. He found out quickly, with his intelligence and intuition, that she wasn’t getting any better.  
  
Derek and Scott came over every day to play with Stiles so that he could get his mind off of it all. It didn’t work.  
  
She died the following month.  
  
\--  
  
Derek buzzed Stiles’s hair for him every month in honor of his mother. His longer hair just brought up memories of the past -- of what could have been, but wasn’t, because life wasn’t fair.  
  
At the beginning, he had thrown tantrums and destroyed things in the house. But now, he was numb. He still felt a dull ache, but he was trying to forget.  
  
In the Fall of Stiles’s first year of middle school, Derek moved. Stiles didn’t cry, but he hugged him a long while as the Hales said farewell to what was left of the Stilinskis. They were broken, and they were hurting, but they were strong, and they would get through this. On the surface, anyway. But the pain would never really go away. Stiles lost his mother, and the sheriff had lost his wife. Nothing would be able to replace the gaping, aching hole in their hearts.  
  
Stiles knew he could never forget. And Derek knew it, too.  
  
That’s why he cried all the way to New York.  
  
\--  
  
Stiles was a tall, gangly teenager. He grew up normally, with the exception of Scott becoming a werewolf at the ripe old age of sixteen. Before this anomaly, Stiles’s crush on Lydia Martin never faded. He kept on trying to woo her, but it never worked. So, naturally, he tried even harder.  
  
Other than that, Stiles’s life hadn’t changed much. Derek’s presence still lingered in his mind every so often, and the ache in his heart that had manifested when his mother died was still there, but Stiles had a normal life. He was happy with Scott being his only friend. He missed Derek and Laura, but came to terms with the fact that they would never come back.  
  
\--  
  
At the age of twenty, Stiles attended community college. He wasn’t one for rooming and he knew he’d just join the police force when he was done with college, so he studied law enforcement and science at Beacon Hills Community College.  
  
Appearance-wise, he had changed. He was tall, but his gangly teenage years had made way to a full body. He had some muscle from working out often, and he wore thick black glasses because his sight was bad. He was still considered a dork, but he found the term endearing. He had friends now, too. But he never engaged in romantic or sexual relationships. And he was comfortable with that. He used to be upset by it, but he wasn’t anymore.  
  
Three days after he started his third year of college, Derek came back.  
  
He came back, but he was very different. He was as tall as Stiles, maybe an inch or two shorter. He had rippling muscles and gosh he was really gorgeous. Stiles had just been walking down the street to go and get a coffee when he saw Derek across the way. They stared at each other for a long time. To some degree, Stiles felt obligated to run into Derek’s arms and jump for joy. He didn’t.  
  
He was glad to see his old friend again, but he wasn’t sure if his old friend returned the feeling.  
  
Apparently, he did, because he crossed the street first when there was no more oncoming traffic. He walked swiftly toward Stiles and wrapped his arms around him tightly when he got to him. Stiles found himself clinging to Derek, digging his head into his shoulder. “Missed you,” Derek whispered. It was odd hearing that out of Derek’s mouth. Derek, who was stone cold before Stiles warmed his heart.  
  
“Missed you, too,” Stiles breathed, closing his eyes and enjoying the moment. They rocked back and forth gently and slowly, swaying with the autumn wind.  
  
\--  
  
Derek came over for dinner the following night. The sheriff was glad to see him back and, naturally, the subject of Derek’s family came up. “They decided to stay in New York,” Derek said. “I never really liked it down there. Too many memories. I mostly moved because my ex-girlfriend was there, and too many of those memories were associated with her.” He paused. “I hate her.”  
  
He said it with such contempt and malice that Stiles was a bit taken aback. He felt jealous, honestly. Jealous that someone could make him feel so strongly about them. Jealous because he wasn’t there for Derek when he needed him. And there was another reason he was jealous, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.  
  
\--  
  
Derek invited Stiles out for coffee often. They wanted to catch up and fill in as much as possible. Derek withheld information about his ex-girlfriend, Kate, but Stiles didn’t care. Derek could take his time telling him about her.  
  
They had all the time in the world, now.  
  
\--  
  
The first time Derek asked Stiles out on a date, Stiles fainted.  
  
The second time Derek asked Stiles out on a date, Stiles sat up from the couch and looked at him incredulously. He had thought the first time was a joke, or a fluke, and had spent many hours in self-pity thinking Derek liked mocking him. He plucked his coat off of the back of the couch and wobbled out of the house to Derek’s camaro.  
  
They went out to lunch at Stiles’s favorite café, and Derek told Stiles that he considered Stiles his childhood sweetheart, even if Stiles didn’t feel the same way. Stiles didn’t feel the same way. He told Derek that straight out.  
  
He knew he stomped on Derek’s mending heart and broke it all over again. Shattered it, even. The way Derek’s face fell, the way he dropped his head. He still drove Stiles home, though, and that made Stiles feel so guilty.  
  
When they got home, Derek hugged him close before saying goodbye.  
  
\--  
  
Surprisingly, Derek still came around for dinner. He didn’t care that Stiles didn’t like him that way, he just wanted to spend time with him as one of his closest friends. Derek never forgot Scott, of course. They hugged tightly when Stiles brought them all together once again. They even played video games in Stiles’s room once again, just like back then.  
  
When Scott left, Derek cornered Stiles and placed a hand over his heart. “Your heart is racing,” he said thickly. Stiles looked away, not willing enough to look Derek in the eyes.  
  
“Yeah, so what? You’re cornering me in my own house. A little space would be nice,” Stiles said. He tried ducking under Derek’s arm, but it didn’t work. Derek was too strong. He put a hand on Stiles’s chin as his eyes glowed blue.  
  
“I think you’ve known all along about what I am,” Derek said. “Scott is one, now.” He frowned as Stiles pretended to be confused.  
  
“What are you talking about? I don’t have a clue--”  
  
“Please don’t lie to me,” Derek said. He looked like the most broken man alive. “I know when you’re lying. I’ve always known. And you’ve never lied to me before. Don’t lie to me now.” Stiles had to look away again. He couldn’t look Derek in the eyes -- not like this.  
  
“Derek, it’s... it’s not like it was. It’s different, now. Everything’s changed, we’re all grown-up, now--”  
  
“Yeah, we were pretty immature back then... but I've changed. Have you?” Derek didn’t wait for an answer before kissing Stiles on the mouth. Stiles’s eyes widened and he immediately pushed away.  
  
“What the fuck is wrong with you?! I told you I wasn’t interested!” Stiles shouted. He pointed down the hallway. “Get out of my house right now, and don’t come back.”  
  
Derek had his answer.  
  
\--  
  
Derek’s presence in Stiles’s life ceased immediately. Maybe that was partly Stiles’s fault, because he didn’t bother to contact him in any way. But Derek had taken steps that Stiles wasn’t ready to take with anyone, especially not his best friend. Maybe he overreacted, but when he said he didn’t like Derek, he meant it.  
  
Now there were two separate aching holes in his heart.  
  
\--  
  
Before Stiles graduated from college, he had a boyfriend. But it wasn’t Derek. Derek wasn’t around anymore. For all Stiles knew, Derek could be dead. The fact that he hadn’t gone looking for Derek really made him realize what a shithead he was.  
  
But, whatever, there wasn’t any time for that now. Stiles was happily, blissfully in love with someone who wasn’t Derek, and life was great. He never thought twice about what was happening in Derek’s life.  
  
\--  
  
As it turned out, Stiles didn’t join the police force. He left his dad in California and moved to Australia with his boyfriend, Matt.  
  
It was too good to be true, though. Stiles knew it from the start, but he stupidly believed Matt’s apologies every single time.  It was, without a doubt, the most pathetic thing Stiles had ever done in his life. The most stupid thing, too. All of the bruises on Stiles’s body that he tried covering up made him ache all over.  
  
The final straw was when Matt pushed Stiles down the stairs. Stiles almost broke his neck, and he had ended up in the hospital. He called his dad in tears, asking him if he could pay for his plane ticket back to Beacon Hills.  
  
\--  
  
Stiles joined the police force the following February. Work kept his mind off of things, off of Derek, who was now haunting his thoughts and dreams. Well, they were more like nightmares. But Stiles kept that to himself.  
  
Despite his hyperactivity and ADHD, Stiles was one of the best shots that Beacon Hills’ law enforcement had ever seen. His hands were hardly shaky when he pulled the trigger and, though he found it tough to focus on a target, when he thought about Derek, he was grounded.  
  
It was morbidly sweet. Thoughts of Derek kept him steady, but he felt like he was shooting him right through the heart.  
  
He supposed he had done that already. He hadn’t seen Derek in four years. He wondered how he was doing. He missed him. He missed him a lot.  
  
Once Stiles started crying himself to sleep over Derek’s absence, he decided to give him a call.  
  
\--  
  
Finding his number was easy enough, as Beacon Hills’ Department of Law Enforcement had access to every person that ever lived in Beacon Hills’ telephone number. It was the calling Derek part that was so incredibly hard.  
  
Stiles couldn’t think of what to say. He ran scenarios in his head, but each of them ended badly. Stiles finally dialed the number when he came to terms with the fact that the worst that could happen was that Derek would never want to talk to him ever again.  
  
It was so much worse than that.  
  
Derek didn’t pick up the phone. And maybe that was better, but then again, maybe not.  
  
\--  
  
There were no longer any dreams of Derek Hale. There were only nightmares. Every night, Stiles cried himself to sleep. Every morning, Stiles woke up with a tear-stained face and a sweat soaked body.  
  
There was no stopping it.  
  
\--  
  
When Stiles turned twenty-six, he finally moved out of his father’s house and into his own apartment a few miles away. He wanted to stay as close to his father as he could. He figured a few miles was good enough. He had to get away from his room, though. From that house. From the memories.  
  
It was safe to say that Stiles felt his life going nowhere. He hadn’t talked to Scott in months, and Derek... well, who knows what happened to him?  
  
That’s when Stiles took up the bottle.  
  
\--  
  
Stiles became an alcoholic way too early in life. By the age of twenty-eight, he had lost his job, his apartment, and he was living with his dad again. The nightmares came back, naturally, and now they featured his mom again, just like they had when he was younger. Those nightmares had gone away a long time ago, but now they were mixed with Derek.  
  
He would always drink himself to sleep and then wake up just to drink again. His dad tried to get him help, but nothing worked. Stiles didn’t want to be helped. He wanted Derek. He wanted Scott. He wanted his mom. The three most important people in his life besides his father.  
  
God, he hated his life. He felt so sorry for himself.  
  
That made him drink even more.  
  
\--  
  
Laura came to visit Stiles. He was thirty, and she was much older. She looked so good, though. She was so successful in life, too, she had a job and everything, and a family. All Stiles could account for in his life was a slight stubble (which took years to grow) and a bit of a beer belly. Just a bit, though. Stiles hoped so, anyway.  
  
“Why did you come?” he asked after a few moments of silence. He had invited Laura in for a cup of coffee while his father was at work.  
  
“My brother is a mess. Has been for almost ten years, now. He needs you, Stiles. And, from the looks of it, you need him, too,” she said. Stiles scowled.  
  
“Don’t tell me what I need,” he said. “I don’t need anything or anyone but lots and lots of alcohol.”  
  
Laura’s mouth thinned. “Is that what you’ve been clinging to all these years? A bottle of whiskey and your father’s income? What the hell is wrong with you?! You had such a promising future, Stiles, what happened?!” she yelled, her face red and blotchy with tears. Stiles was taken aback.  
  
“Derek,” he said immediately. “Derek left. That’s what happened.”  
  
“Don’t you DARE blame my brother for your faults in life, Stiles Stilinski! You ruined his life when you told him to get out!” she cried. Stiles looked away.  
  
“He never came back,” he choked. “Never came back to...”  
  
“To what?!” she asked, furious. “To pick up the pieces again? Just like he did when your mother died? That isn’t up to him, Stiles, that’s up to you!” Stiles scowled.  
  
“Don’t you dare talk about my mother when you turned a blind eye!” he shouted back. “Derek was there when you never were! Because I was too young, right? Because you thought you were hot shit? Well, surprise! Now I’m old enough for you to talk to. Now, it’s too late.”  
  
“It’s not too late,” she said. “Stiles, it’s not. Derek still wants to see you. He needs you. Please! I’ll pay for your ticket, I’ll pay for whatever you want. Please!”  
  
“No. Now get out of this house.”  
  
\--  
  
Laura came back for him unlike Derek. She kept coming back, because what Stiles had said hit home. She knew she neglected Stiles when he was a child, but she wanted to make up for it, now. She wanted Stiles and Derek to mend their broken hearts, to mend themselves.  
  
It was “please” followed by a “no” every time, but she never gave up.  
  
Then, one day, Stiles succumbed to his alcoholism. He would have died in the gutter if Laura hadn’t found him and called his dad.  
  
Getting his stomach pumped was the worst feeling in the world. Besides the aches in his heart.  
  
Stiles decided to clean up his act.  
  
\--  
  
Stiles went with Laura back to New York after he had spent three months in Alcoholics Anonymous. He was doing very well. He hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, and his beer belly was gone thanks to his vigilant working out during this time. He wanted to look fit and healthy for Derek.  
  
Derek. God, he missed him so much. He wanted to take the pain away from Derek. He wanted...  
  
He wanted a lot of things. He wanted a lot more than he ever thought he would.  
  
\--  
  
The first thing Stiles noticed about Laura’s house was that it was full of werewolf children scampering about. The walls were colorful and everything was neat and clean. The kids were well-behaved, but they liked to roughhouse. Stiles became a new chew toy for them, but he didn’t mind. He would see Derek soon. That was what mattered.  
  
Their teeth did hurt, though. He never complained.  
  
He slept soundly, and the following morning, they set out to Derek’s house. What Stiles wasn’t expecting was for Laura to drop him off and just leave him on Derek’s doorstep. He supposed she wanted them to talk through their feelings themselves. He didn’t blame her. He didn’t really want her there, anyway.  
  
And then, he knocked on the door.  
  
Now he wanted Laura.  
  
He heard a rough “come in!” from inside, and Stiles’s heart leapt into his throat. Derek’s voice hadn’t changed much. It was familiar, and that was enough for Stiles to turn the knob and open the door. He closed it and then looked up. Derek was lying on the couch facing the television, so he couldn’t see Stiles right away.  
  
Suddenly, Derek jerked up. He smelled something very, very familiar. A scent he’d never forget. The scent he’d been longing for. “Stiles,” he said immediately, standing up and making a beeline straight for him. This time, Stiles didn’t just stand there. This time, Stiles went running straight into Derek’s arms.  
  
\--  
  
The third time Derek asked Stiles out on a date, Stiles was terrified. His heart was beating way too fast and his palms were all sweaty. Those were the telltale signs of love, Stiles knew, which terrified him even further. They went to Derek’s favorite diner and ate in happy silence. Stiles took Derek’s hand under the table and ran his thumb across it.  
  
Derek’s eyes widened and he looked from Stiles to their linked hands and back again several times before he relaxed. Stiles didn’t know when they had gotten to such a stage that this was okay, but they had, and he liked it.  
  
He told Derek all about Matt, which made Derek boil with rage. Stiles had a permanent scar where a screw that had stuck out from one of the stairs had been lodged into his elbow. Derek touched it lightly and closed his eyes, trying to picture how he would have handled it had he been there.  
  
“I should never have left,” he said. Stiles bristled.  
  
“Don’t blame yourself for something I did. I was the one who told you to leave. You took it to heart. I knew you would. If you want someone to blame, then blame me.” But he knew Derek wouldn’t. He couldn’t.  
  
“I love you,” Derek said suddenly, and Stiles had to do a double-take.  
  
“I’m sorry?” he said, taking a sip of his water after almost choking on a bit of pasta.  
  
“I love you,” he said again. “I can’t say when I first started loving you, but it’s been a while. I’ve never stopped. I’ve waited all this time for you to come back to me, and you did. And for that, I’m so grateful.” Stiles clenched Derek’s hand tighter. He had never seen Derek cry. Not once. But now, he did.  
  
His heart swelled with courage.  
  
“If the nightmares and heartache aren’t enough proof, I sort of love you, too,” Stiles admitted, looking anywhere but at Derek. Derek looked at Stiles. It was his turn to be surprised, now. “I went to sleep every night crying because you weren’t there. Because I made you leave. Because you were the better man.” His voice was a quiet whisper, now. “I knew I was in love with you because I used to feel the same way about you and Scott, but then I started feeling something stronger and less friendly towards you, more of a warm feeling, and it was stronger than what I felt for Matt, but I knew it was on about the same page.” He gritted his teeth. “I love you, Derek Hale, god damnit. I don’t want to admit it, I don’t, but I do.” Now Stiles was crying, and he felt like such a baby. “I love you so damn much. I became an alcoholic because I couldn’t sort out my feelings or my life, I--” He had to stop because he was crying so hard that he couldn’t even speak.  
  
Derek paid the bill and took Stiles out of the diner, sitting with him in the car and allowing him to cry into his chest as long as he needed to. Stiles hadn’t had a good long cry like this since before Laura had come to see him. He needed it.  
  
\--  
  
The first time Derek and Stiles kissed, it was Stiles who initiated. They were in the pantry, looking for something to make for dinner, when Derek decided it would be funny to turn out the lights and scare Stiles. When he turned them back on, Stiles was so mad that he grabbed Derek by the collar of his shirt. He meant to bite him on the nose as a gesture of affection and a warning to not be such a jerk, but he ended up placing his mouth on Derek’s, instead.  
  
Derek jerked back at first, and Stiles suspected it was probably because he hadn’t been kissed in so long. Or maybe that was just Stiles being vain. Either way, Derek eventually leaned into the kiss and moved his mouth against Stiles’s. They didn’t touch each other. Only their mouths touched, and it was sloppy and messy and innocent and so sweet that Stiles could have gotten a cavity.  
  
It hurt, because it was too good for him. He didn’t deserve it.  
  
\--  
  
The first time Derek and Stiles had sex, it wasn’t hot and desperate like it should have been. It was lazy and domestic and something that would happen with a married couple, Stiles thought, because there was such a familiarity here that Stiles couldn’t stand it. They shouldn’t have been giving each other little kisses on the backs of their hands and on their cheeks, because that was too gentle. It was too familiar. It was scary.  
  
Stiles wanted it fast and hard and rough, because that was what he deserved after fucking Derek over for so long. He didn’t deserve kisses peppered all over his cheeks the following morning, he didn’t deserve the gentle way Derek handled him. He didn’t deserve it.  
  
“I don’t deserve this,” he finally said as Derek rolled over to grab his jeans from the floor and put them on. Derek looked at him curiously before putting a hand on the bed.  
  
“Hm? Why’s that?” he asked, because he was genuinely curious and he wanted to know. Stiles glared at him.  
  
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know. Ten years. Ten. Years! I screwed you over for ten years, Derek, and here I am, thinking in my vain, messed up little head, ‘how did he survive without me all that time?! Gosh, he must’ve been so lonely and,’ blah. Blah. Blah. I’m a little shit and you’re stupid for loving me,” he sighed. Derek couldn’t help but laugh, which just made Stiles even more irritated. “You’re the fucking worst.” Derek put his hands up in defense.  
  
“Hey, I’m not the one saying all of this stuff!” he said. Then, he stroked Stiles’s forehead softly with the backs of his fingers, and then his cheeks. “You’re right. It was hard surviving without you. I didn’t want to do it, but I did it, because it was the right thing to do. Because I have too many people in my life who love me. I also never gave up hope that you’d come back to me one day. And, well, here you are,” he murmured with a soft smile. He kissed Stiles’s forehead and gave him happy eskimo kisses before standing up. “I’m going to go make some breakfast. What do you want?”  
  
It was so domestic and familiar and Stiles never wanted it to end.  
  
\--  
  
Bringing Derek back home to his father was nerve wracking, especially because Stiles never actually told his dad he was going to New York for the summer. He just left him a brief note saying to call him if he needed anything. He found it a little strange that his father didn’t call.  
  
“I didn’t call because you’re an adult and you’re way old enough to make your own decisions,” his father said, sitting down at the table with a bowl of steamed vegetables. He had been eating healthy with a begrudging attitude because his body needed it. He wasn’t exactly thirty anymore, he didn’t have the metabolism and health he had when he was younger. He also wasn’t a werewolf like Derek.  
  
“Dad, will you come to our wedding?” Stiles asked, and he supposed it was his way of proposing to Derek, because he didn’t care much for expensive rings and traditional proposals. But if Derek wanted to propose, too, he wouldn’t be opposed. Ha, that rhymed. Stiles thought he was a pretty good rhymer. In fact, all of these thoughts were going through his head because his father hadn’t responded yet.  
  
“Dad?” Stiles asked. “Dad, are you okay?”  
  
Derek rushed Stiles’s dad to the hospital because he had a heart attack.  
  
But he was alright. He woke up a day or so later to Stiles sleeping beside him, holding his hand as Derek watched over the both of them. Derek shook him gently when he saw his father awaken. “Stiles,” he whispered.  
  
“Hm?” Stiles asked, sleepy. He became alert when he noticed his father was awake. “Oh, thank god!” he cried, wrapping his arms around his father’s neck. His father rubs his back affectionately. Weakly, but affectionately.  
  
“I’m okay, son. It’s gonna be okay. And yes, I’ll come to the wedding.”  
  
\--  
  
Stiles reconciled with Scott and sent him an invitation to the wedding. Scott gladly accepted, and Stiles was so happy that he could die. He also invited Lydia, who told him she would be bringing her wife, Allison, with her, and that Stiles couldn’t stop her if she tried. He couldn’t argue with that.  
  
Derek thumbed Stiles’s cheek softly, leaning down to kiss it softly and nudge it with his nose as Stiles continued making calls. “What is it?” Stiles asked softly.  
  
“Can we cuddle?” Derek asked with an unsure frown. Stiles smiled and nodded, putting his phone down and wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck.  
  
“Yes, we can cuddle. But you have to carry me to the bed.”  
  
\--  
  
They were married in Derek’s family’s house. It was a mansion, and the bottom floor foyer was big enough for two weddings to go on at the same time and not overlap one another space-wise. They both wore black because screw traditions, this was their wedding and they’d do whatever they damned well pleased.  
  
They still wiped cake on each other’s noses, though. Derek licked it off of Stiles’s nose in that wolfy way of his. Stiles didn’t mind.  
  
\--  
  
They didn’t have a honeymoon, because they both thought it was ludicrous to spend large amounts of money just to spend time together when they spent time together every day. They did have sex, though, and this time it was actually fast and desperate like Stiles wanted.  
  
Derek always knew what Stiles wanted, right from day one.  
  
Just like he knew Stiles wanted that gamecube.  
  
\--  
  
 **Present Day**  
  
They have kids. Four of them, because Derek wanted them and Stiles wanted to give Derek everything. Two of them are still in diapers, barely walking. One of them is five, one of them is seven. Stiles is almost forty, and Derek is almost fifty, and that’s okay with both of them.  
  
It’s okay because they’re together. It’s okay because Stiles still goes to Alcoholics Anonymous every single day because, while he may be sober for what’s going to be nine years, he still gets the urge sometimes, especially when he and Derek fight. Because that’s what couples do. They fight, and then they make-up.  
  
\--  
  
I suppose that’s the moral of this story. Derek and I had a fight that raged on for almost eleven years, even if we didn’t know it. We fought ourselves. I fought alcoholism and nightmares, and Derek fought giving up on everything. But, here we are, we made it. We’re happy.  
  
And that’s all I could ever really ask for. **  
  
The end.**


End file.
